


like the branches of a tree

by Falmouth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, destined to be together in all timelines, flashbacks to canonverse, glenn is alive he's just in erasmus, miklan does not exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26973718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falmouth/pseuds/Falmouth
Summary: Felix grew up with memories of a past lifetime, a world where he dated and loved Sylvain (maybe he does in this life too). Sylvain doesn't have the memories of a past life but he has a sharp eye: cute little Ashe has the biggest, most adorable crush on Felix, and hemustdo something about it, right?Or, Ashe likes Felix who likes Sylvain who maybe likes both, and the story of how they find each other in all timelines.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	like the branches of a tree

**Author's Note:**

> I love sylvashelix! Let the boys be all together! Anyway, I also love reincarnation/soulmates AUs with no set rules where everything is pretty vague and the characters are just like ??? guess I love you because I chose to love you every time, so this was my main idea while writing. I imagined reminiscence of past lifetitimes/reincarnation to be something à la cloud atlas or maybe zero escape kind of thing. You don't need to know them to understand the story though! As always, English isn't my first language so don't hesitate to tell me if you see any mistakes!  
> 

The first time he dies, he’s seventeen. He falls to the ground with a piercing pain right in his chest and he looks down to see blood, and red, and more blood. He hears someone far away scream his name, or at least what he thinks is his name, and then nothing.

Suddenly, a knot in his stomach brings him back to his senses again, and he opens his eyes to see a familiar, worried face look down at him. He feels warmth all over and it’s as though even the pain itself is pouring out of his wounds. Maybe he’s not dead after all.

He’s actually nine years old and wakes up with a jolt as he feels hot tears running down his cheeks. He runs into his brother’s room and cries into his shoulder long after the memories of the nightmare are faded away. Glenn hugs him tight and kisses his head, and Felix falls asleep again in his arms.

* * *

It’s summer, unbearably so, and the sun tints Felix’s eyes with shades of yellows and browns and burns the skin at the tip of his nose, on his shoulders. Cicadas sing and sing all day and never get tired. His mother stops him before he can run away and puts sunblock on his face and on his brother’s.

“Are you sure you don’t want to cut that, honey,” she says, referring to Glenn’s hair but he just shrugs, saying he prefers it long. Felix has been trying to grow his as well, and he touches self-consciously a strand that barely reaches his ear now.

They are free to go and they run towards their friends in the middle of the playground where Sylvain and Ingrid are arguing about whose turn it is on the swings.

“I dreamt about you guys tonight,” Felix says, and Glenn gives him a worried look.

Sylvain drops the swing he so valiantly fought for. “Really? What happened?”

“I don’t really remember,” Felix answers, and it’s the truth. He had been scared that night, finding comfort only between his brother’s arms, but doesn’t exactly recall what scared him so much. He just has a vague sense of nostalgia, as he tries to concentrate on the memory. He’s not even sure the people in his dreams were his friends, not really. More like the  _concept_ of them. 

“I don’t know. We were playing soldiers.” This is what he thinks the armours and swords, and giant, infinite foreign fields must mean.

“Really?! That sounds fun!” Sylvain beams and grabs a thick looking branch from the ground. _"En garde_ , enemy!” he says, swinging it like a sword. 

“Wait, Sylvain! I can show you what I’ve learned at fencing class…” but Dimitri’s words dissolve in air, as Felix laughs and grabs his own imaginary sword. “Sorry Sylvain, you’ll die first.”

Ingrid kicks the air and flies higher on the swing. “Try and catch me up here if you can!”

It’s fun, playing like this, and even the scorching heat of the summer becomes a bit more bearable when he’s with his friends. By the end of the day, he has completely forgotten what the nightmare was all about.

* * *

Felix dreams of armours and swords, and giant, infinite foreign fields again.

Sometimes, he dreams every night, and other times he does not for weeks.

It almost feels like he’s watching two movies at the same time, and it’s difficult to discern which is which. One is his life, simple as that, that goes on and shapes around him as he grows and makes choices; the other is the one in his dreams. He can’t always remember the details when he wakes up, but he’s always left with a sense of nostalgia and emptiness in his heart. He’s tried to do some research: about  _ lucid dreaming _ and  _ oneirology _ but nothing seems quite to explain what he’s feeling. He’s afraid of talking about it with others because he knows they’ll say  _ dreaming about your friends just means you love them, Felix. _ But Felix isn’t just dreaming about his friends, he’s mostly dreaming about himself. He dreams about himself crying as he buries a cat that he’s never met, he dreams about himself gushing happily in front of a meal that he’s never tasted.

The Felix in his dreams grows older as the real Felix does, but everything is so different. He gets a new bike for his twelfth birthday, and Dream-Felix gets a new wooden sword.  _ You’ll get better with a bit of practice _ both of their fathers say at their scarred knees and calloused hands. 

Some nights, the ages don’t match, and Felix dreams of himself as a slightly older, bruised boy, now wielding a true sword and training at an academy. Dream-Felix’s hair is a bit longer than his, but messier and tangled and held up in an untidy bun, opposite to Felix’s neat ponytail.

Dream-Sylvain smiles just as brightly as normal Sylvain does, but hides scars and bruises under it. One morning, Felix wakes up angry as he remembers Dream-Sylvain confessing that his brother Miklan left him alone in the middle of the forest. He’s frustrated and sad, and thinks of his own Sylvain, who is an only child. Then why would his mind create something like this?

The scariest part comes when his friends mention things that Felix remembers from his dreams and his dreams only.

It goes like this:

For Sylvain’s fifteenth birthday they go to the amusement park. In the middle of the summer the water rides are open too, and the newest addition is a roller-coaster that is described as  _"Experience the feeling of a magical flight on a pegasus horseback! Fly high through the skies above the Princess’ castle!”_ Ingrid just  _ beams. _

“Can we please,  _ please _ , go on that one?!”

“I never thought you were type for princesses’ stuff” Glenn says, and Felix nods in agreement.

But Ingrid shakes her head. “It’s not that, I like the pegasus thing!”

“It’s the newest ride of the park, right? We should hurry up and get in line…”

“It reminds me of a dream I had just a few weeks ago. I was a soldier flying on a pegasus and—” Felix’s blood goes cold despite the scorching heat. He grips his icy tea a bit too hard, until Sylvain places a soft hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? If you don’t want to go, I’ll stay here with you.” Felix nods shortly; suddenly he feels sick.

“—and in this dream, I was a student at this school, you could learn how to fight, how to use magic and how to fly! The headmistress had long, mint-green hair—weird, right? Imagine if the headmistress in our school had green hair… And then—”

But Felix is not listening anymore, a lump in his throat and only the beating drums of his heartbeat in his ears. Because he knows already what Ingrid is describing, recalls everything perfectly from the dreams he’s been having for the past years. How is it possible that things from his own imagination found their way into Ingrid’s mind as well? He tries to remember if they both saw a movie recently, something,  _ anything¸  _ that can explain why one of his best friends from a lifetime knows in excruciating detail everything that he saw in his dreams.

“You seem to remember everything so well. I never remember my dreams,” Dimitri says, pensive, with a finger on his chin. “It’s a fascinating field of study, don’t you think?”

“I guess? Come on, let’s go try it!” Everyone follows Ingrid as she runs towards the gate of the ride, but Felix stays behind.

“Felix, are you sure you are okay? You look a bit pale.” Sylvain is still next to him, looking at him worriedly. He’s always been able to read Felix like an open book, always knows when something is wrong.

“Mh,” Felix says, “just what Ingrid said sounded familiar.” Maybe he’s just overthinking it. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, maybe they saw the same commercial and were influenced by it. None of this means anything.

“I’m fine,” he reassures Sylvain. “Let’s go with the others.”

Sylvain smiles and nods, but still offers him a reassuring hand to walk together. Felix accepts it.

It also goes like this:

Felix is crying at Sylvain’s hospital bed, gripping tight on the sheets, and mumbling  _ sorry, sorry, sorry. _ Sylvain just laughs, “It’s not your fault.”

It really had been Felix’s fault, though. He had been convinced to try roller-skating, because his brother was good at it, and thought that Felix  _ had the right body to try it too. _ And it had worked, for the first few minutes. Until Felix had lost his balance and had tried to hold on the closest thing to him (read: Sylvain) taking him down to the ground with him.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened next, just the sound of an ambulance and a dull pain on his shoulder.

And now, Sylvain is lying on a hospital bed with his right leg and arm put in a plaster cast.

“Remember that time I fell into a well? Okay, not really fell, Glenn threw me in, and the hole was sealed so it was just a few centimetres fall, but it hurt like a  _ bitch _ ! I thought I had really broken my ankle! The doctor said nothing was wrong, so I’m glad. Ask your brother, he’s still so ashamed for that time… Of course, it was not his fault, we were just playing around, but it’s fun to remind him and tease him from time to time...”

Felix stares and stares and says nothing. It’s a story he’s heard dozens of times, both from Sylvain and his brother. But suddenly he remembers what Sylvain once told him (a much battered, scarred, Dream-Sylvain), of how his brother had abandoned him at the bottom of a well, and he had slipped and twisted his ankle. It had been hours before someone could find him and by then his leg was so swollen and purple that they needed to call the most skilled bishop  _ (what?)  _ of all Faerghus  _ (where?) _ to heal it.

“This time didn’t hurt even half of it. Really, it’s not your fault, don’t make a burden out of it, ok?” he tries to reach for Felix’s face to dry his tears, but he can’t really reach it with his cast.

“You know, my father says that scars are wounds from a past lifetime.” Sylvain says, trying to fill the silence, “like when sometimes you find scars that you can’t explain, what if—”

“That’s bullshit,” Felix scoffs, and then thinks about it again. “And what are you talking about? You know how you got these scars.”

“Yeah, there’s a whole study about it… I mean, like—Maybe a Future Me, somewhere, somewhen— will wake up one day with scars all over his arm, and he won’t know it’s because of me today! Well, maybe that’d explain this one!” with just one hand, he manages to raise his shirt enough to show a big, rounded patch of darker skin right in the middle of his chest, just below his sternum.

Felix bites his cheek. “That’s a birthmark, idiot, not a scar.”

* * *

_ “Hey Felix! I looked for you everywhere. You weren’t at the ball,” Sylvain says one chilly night of the Ethereal Moon. _

_ Felix had indeed left the ballroom pretty early: it had been too loud, and he needed some quiet time alone to breathe again. He had run to the Knight’s Hall to do some training and empty his mind, but now, of course, Sylvain is here too. _

_ “I’ve told you, I’m not interested in things like dancing,” he says, not even looking in his direction, “wasting my time with some girl on my arm isn’t how I want to spend the night.” _

_ “Hey, no one said it had to be a girl,” Sylvain says, running to grab a lance in the pile at the corner of the room and when Felix doesn’t say anything he adds, “For example, I told you I was going to teach Ashe how to dance – and how to flirt with girls – I don’t think he was too impressed though… hey, want to spar with me instead of that poor dummy?” _

_ Felix finally lowers his swords and looks at him. “Why are you dressed like this,” he says. Sylvain had somehow convinced Professor Byleth to sign him up as a representative dancer for the Blue Lions house and Felix just couldn’t get it. Instead of actually training for it, he had spent all month going around pirouetting between girls, shaking his shoulders and ass to make the frills and paillettes of his dress jiggle around him in a pesky tune. _

_ Plus, he looks ridiculous (-ly hot). Felix tells him so (not the hot part). _

_ “Hey,” Sylvain pouts, “can’t a guy show off what got him winning the dance competition?” _

_ Felix jabs him in the stomach with the hilt of his sword. “I win the first round. Stay concentrated. You said you wanted to train, right?” _

_ “Yeah, sure,” Sylvain says, taking position. It doesn’t look like fighting is going to stop him from having a chat, though. “Why here, by the way?” he asks, dodging a low blow from Felix, “I thought you preferred training in, you know, the training grounds.” Another dodge. _

_ “It was closed,” Felix snorts through gritted teeth, because if there’s one thing he hates, it’s chit-chat during training sessions. _

_ “What?” _

_ “I said it was closed.” _

_ “Ah,” Sylvain smiles, blocking a hit, “it’s almost like kids this hour are supposed to be somewhere else, like dancing or—hey ouch!” Felix strikes with his sword right on Sylvain’s shins, making him fall unceremoniously on the ground, his lance flying in the air. Felix straddles his hips and grabs his wrists to press them on the ground, raised over his head. _

_ “Do you—" _

_ “Fine yes, I yield,” Sylvain is laughing, his hair dishevelled and messy, and Felix stays silent for a moment as he looks down at him. Sylvain is showing one of his best smiles, the ones where he shows his teeth and his mouth is crooked and it highlights the dimple on his right cheek. A single drop of sweat runs down his temple and Felix wishes for a moment that he could taste it. _

_ “Hey,” Sylvain says, staring deep into Felix’s eyes, “please get off me, I’ve got sand in my ass.” Felix jumps on his feet and takes a step back. He coughs, determined not to look in Sylvain’s direction. _

_ “Yuck gross, I really have sand stuck everywhere… in my hair” he hears him say. He glances a look in his direction, “… and my ass…” Sylvain finishes as he blatantly slaps his own butt to shake the sand off. Felix scoffs. _

_ “I won again. Two-zero.” _

_ “Sure, sure… I think that’s enough for tonight.” _

_ It’s awkward for a moment, as none of them say anything. Sylvain called for the last round, so Felix is just waiting for him to say he’ll go to bed, or back to the ball, maybe to entertain some girls. Felix desperately doesn’t want him to go. He opens his mouth to ask for another round, despite everything, and maybe this time he’ll go easy on him and— _

_ “Oh!” Sylvain exclaims, suddenly, and excitedly runs towards the entrance of the hall, “I’ve just remembered something I wanted to show you, come with me.” He offers his hand to Felix, who doesn’t take it, but still follows him. _

_ It’s cold outside, and Sylvain takes him to the silent gardens of the monastery without saying a word, and Felix is confused when he’s led up the stairs that get to the sauna. _

_ “I found a secret passage,” Sylvain explains when they are halfway, almost reading Felix’s confusion in his silence, “and it leads somewhere really special.” _

_ Despite having lived there for almost a year, Felix can’t say he has explored much of the monastery. He knows where his room is, where the dining hall and the training grounds are and, honestly, he doesn’t need to know much more. He’s tried the sauna once, and only because professor Byleth had asked him to, so he never noticed the hidden set of stairs Sylvain is walking him to, carved on the stone on the outside of the building. _

_ “Where are we going,” he asks. He’s getting a bit upset at Sylvain’s mysterious silence, and then, “Aren’t you cold?” he adds, when a particular sharp breeze reaches them. They are outside, in the middle of the night, in the middle of winter, and Sylvain dares being half naked like that and— _

_ “Nah, I’m used to it. I have a thick skin. Hey look – we’re here.” _

_ Felix isn’t a lover of romantic fairy-tales, he much prefers staying with his feet to the ground, because it does not dwell to live in dreams when the harsh reality looms over them every day, but he can’t help but being… fascinated by the sight in front of his eyes. _

_ They have reached a little balcony on the outside of the monastery, that looks in the direction of the forest nearby; there isn’t any door on the wall, so that means that it’s not accessible from the inside. He doesn’t even want to ask Sylvain how he found this place. _

_ “Pretty huh? I was hiding from a girl the other day when I accidentally found this place… though I guess it would have been better to take her up here with me… it’s romantic right?” _

_ Felix gives him a grunt in response and not the satisfaction of an agreement. Sylvain smiles at him anyway, and then takes off the upper layer of the gown of his stupid outfit – goddess how is he not embarrassed – and lays it on the ground. _

_ “Sit with me,” he says, patting the spot next to him, “let’s have a picnic.” _

_ Felix regrets not asking for another round of training. _

_ He sits next to Sylvain and holds himself up on his elbows, looking at the sky above him. With no lights lit nearby them, the starry sky is visible and breath-taking that night. _

_ “Sorry I don’t have any snacks or drinks with me,” Sylvain says, “not the best picnic party.” _

_ “You are a terrible host,” Felix teases. _

_ “Comeeeee on! I’ll make up for that!” Sylvain exclaims, leaning towards Felix’s shoulder with all his weight. “I could maybe tell you some raunchy stories…” _

_ Felix grimaces, “I really, really don’t care.” _

_ “Why not?! You know the secret of tonight, right?” _

_ Felix goes still for a moment. Of course he knows; everyone knows about the legend of the Goddess Tower. ‘If you make a pledge, it will be fulfilled’, even if Sylvain had been adamant in insisting that it was only about the promise between two lovers. _

_ “Why,” he asks, tense, “you had plans to go up there?” _

_ Sylvain bursts in a laugh. “What? No way! There’s a certain professor that’s been missing from the dance for more than one hour, I really don’t want to meet her up there with someone,” he says, nudging Felix’s side as he says the last word. Felix suddenly feels more relaxed. _

_ “The Boar’s face when the Professor danced with Claude disgusted me,” he says and Sylvain laughs. _

_ “You should have seen his face when she danced with him!” Sylvain beams genuinely but hides a smirk that says he’s going to tease Dimitri about it later. _

_ “Gross. I don’t care.” _

_ “Hey, you brought it up! I think our Prince Boy is in love!” he exclaims, looking like an excited kid with a new toy, but gets immediately more serious looking at Felix’s dark face. He leans in and asks, softer, “What’s wrong with being in love?” _

_ Everything. Liking someone is a huge inconvenience. _

_ Felix knows Sylvain loves him—he has told him, explicitly so, one night when he was most hurt and vulnerable and had drunk his weight in alcohol. He had slurred it between hiccups while nose-pressed into Felix’s shoulder, damp eyes and scarred heart. Felix hadn’t said it back. _

_ If he thinks about it, Sylvain had probably told him many times before, without words. He had told him when they were just four and seven years old and he had tended for his scars after Felix had fallen down his horse for the first time. Sylvain hadn’t teased him then, hadn’t laughed, but instead had kissed his bruises, saying it was a magic trick to heal them faster. _

_ He had told him when Glenn had left to follow the King as a knight of the Royal Guard. Felix had been mad at him, not even saying goodbye. Sylvain had vowed to always be by his side instead. He too had a scar left by his older brother burning on his skin. _

_ He had told him when they had clasped their hands together and promised to never let it go unless they were together. Felix guesses that time he said it back, too. _

_ They are childhood friends, and they almost kissed three times in the months spent at the monastery. Felix had always been the one to withdraw first, to break the spell, to cut the string that connected them. He can’t really explain his feelings when it comes to Sylvain. He’s never imagined himself as having or desiring a romantic life, but if he’d have to pick one it would surely be Sylvain. He knows he’s hurting Sylvain, aware of his feelings but never giving him the privilege of an answer, keeping him close but always letting him go at the last moment. He’s noticed the sad, broken smile Sylvain gives him every time he pushes him away, or every time he suggests he should just go entertain some random girl instead. He knows perfectly why Sylvain acts the way he does with the women at the monastery, so it’s just mean of Felix to rub salt in the wounds like that. Felix always regrets it a second too late every time he says it. He thinks, maybe, that he’s acting like that as a means of self-defence, not willing to admit to himself that he’s very much ready to accept Sylvain and everything he has to offer. And he knows Sylvain dislikes himself too much to dare to offer himself and his heart again. _

_ “Anyway,” Sylvain coughs, after Felix doesn’t answer. “Yes, the Goddess Tower is for making wishes, but did you know that you can also make a wish on the stars?” _

_ “What?” _

_ “Yeah—it’s an old tale but if you stare at the sky long enough, sometimes you may see a falling one and you can make a wish…I think?” _

_ “So, what do you do, you just lie down and stare at the sky?” _

_ “That’s it! It’s fun I promise.” _

_ It’s fun only for the first few minutes, but the sky above them says silent and immutable, so Sylvain starts telling some of his old stories. Felix lets him do all the talk, with the occasional grunt of disagreement or laugh of disbelief, just to let him know that he’s still following the conversation. Sylvain’s voice is like a lullaby that calms his nerves, even when he’s talking about stupid love stories to fill the silence. _

_ Eventually, even Sylvain runs out of stories to tell, or maybe he doesn’t deem the rest as interesting and worthy of being narrated. Felix realises only now that they must have been up there for quite a while, the chatter and noise from the dance below them completely silent now. _

_ “This is boring. Just how often is this supposed to happen—” just as he says this, a light crosses the sky. It lasts only a second. Both he and Sylvain jump on their feet, as to see its trail better as it disappears again in the dark sky. _

_ “Woah! Did you see that?! Come on, think of your wish.” Sylvain closes his eyes, his mouth wrinkled in a concentrated pout that it’s almost cute. Almost. _

_ Felix’s mind runs fast; what could he wish for? Suddenly he can’t think of anything worth a wish: maybe for a valid opponent during training, or for his favourite dish to be served the next day, or maybe something bigger, like seeing Dimitri act like himself again, or to see his brother again, even if just for one day or—wait, is he still in time to make a wish? _

_ “Ok, I’m done,” Sylvain grins at him. “You?” _

_ Felix shakes his head, absentmindedly. He then asks, “What did you wish for?” _

_ Sylvain opens his mouth, ready to answer, but then shuts up. He gives a quick glance to Felix and smiles at him, “Well, if I say it out loud it won’t be true.” _

_ And Felix isn’t sure what it is, but this is  _ it. _ There’s something in Sylvain’s wobbly smile, in the uncertainty in his eyes, in the way he bites his lips and won’t dare to repeat what he has already said (so many times, too many times), that completely shatters Felix’s world. _

_ He turns towards Sylvain and stares at him deep in the eyes. What he says next it’s a request, mostly, almost sounding like an order because he is tense and shouts it, echoing in the dark of the night. _

_ He’s never wanted so much in his life. _

_ ‘Kiss me, please,’ he repeats, lower, softer, for Sylvain’s ears only, and the other boy smiles so deeply and sincerely that it almost looks like he’s going to start crying. _

_ Sylvain is Felix’s childhood friend, and they almost kissed three times. _

_ This time Sylvain kisses him for real. _

_ He cups both of Felix's cheeks with his hands and pulls him closer until their lips touch. Sylvain kisses slow and sweet, occasionally wandering to his cheeks, or nose, or neck, but mostly staying focused on his mouth. Felix feels drunk. _

_When they part, he draws back just enough to stare at his friend's mouth,_ _as if admiring his work, or as to process what has happened. And then Sylvain, because he’s Sylvain, laughs and says, “So what, do you like me?” Felix bites his lip._

_ Much, much later, Felix wakes up in a bed that isn’t his (“Want to crash in my room tonight? Just—Just to talk and catch up on some things. I can convince the lady at the dining hall to give us some bread and cheese, or a bowl of that stew that you like so much, so we can continue our… uh—picnic somewhere else, and not on the ground, and yes I am cold now, even if I feel like there’s a fire in my chest,” Sylvain had said all in one breath, and Felix had just laughed and accepted) as the sun timidly rises from the mountains around the monastery, announcing his presence by painting the sky with the softest pinks and oranges. He turns towards Sylvain and notices he’s awake too, sun-kissed as the rays from the window behind them reflect on the brown in his eyes, on the freckles on his shoulders. _

_ Sylvain sighs and says, “Well that’s it. Cannot wish on the stars anymore.” Felix wishes on the sky, on the clouds, on the sun, on the night before, even on Seiros herself because now he’s looking at Sylvain, lying in bed next to him, as he melts as one with the morning sun: intimate, warm and inevitable. _

_ He lives in his own, little, made-up world, undisturbed like in an invisible bubble, just him and Sylvain living in it. He stares at Sylvain’s lips and wonders if he’d dare to kiss them again. Sylvain smiles, just for him, and Felix knows he’s allowed to do that, whenever he wants, as many times as he wants. _

And he loves Sylvain in this life too. Sylvain who’s tall and has big hands and that’s always there for him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He tries to convince himself that he loves him just because he remembers doing so in his past life (So, this is it, right? His past life?).

He’s never had a recurring dream before now. He’s always watched his dreams as if they were a movie, always moving forwards bit by bit.

That night, he dreams of kissing Sylvain under the stars.

* * *

He dreams of kissing Sylvain under the stars.

* * *

He dreams of kissing Sylvain. Again, and again.

* * *

Felix remembers Sylvain’s first kiss. It had been the first year of middle school, during a stupid game of truth or dare. Sylvain had brazenly chosen  _ 'dare’ _ and was asked to kiss on the lips one of his classmates between cheers and laughs. She was the prettiest girl in school, and everyone had clapped and whistled when they both leaned in and their mouths met in the middle of the circle. They dated for a few weeks after that, until Sylvain decided that he wasn’t really sure if he was looking for a relationship yet.

Felix’s first kiss comes only much later, during the fifth year of high school. There is this guy from another class Felix has talked to just a couple of times, but lately has always been with his group of friends. Felix knows the guy has a crush on him and he doesn’t really know what to do about it. He has never had someone have a crush on him; it feels strange.

One evening, during another stupid game of truth or dare (“Aren’t we a bit too old for these games?” “Felix, the fun starts  _ just now."), _ The Boy is dared to kiss him.

“What? No!” Felix exclaims in self-defence, taking a step back. The Boy’s face falls in a hurt expression and Felix tries to backtrack. “I mean— if it’s for the game, I—” he closes his eyes shut and waits. The Boy steps closer, takes a deep breath… and kisses him on the cheek. Everyone boos and laughs, and Felix opens his eyes just enough to see The Boy go back to his seat looking like a dog with its tail between its legs. He sighs in relief.

A few hours later, they find each other outside of the building, alone. Felix tries to go by unnoticed, but The Boy stops him. “Oh hey? Uhm, I’m sorry for before, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But my friends, you know, I…” he is rambling, and Felix actually feels sorry for him. In insight, his first reaction has probably hurt him more than Felix ever intended to.

“Don’t worry, I—I can understand.”

There is a long awkward silence and then The Boy speaks again:

“Because I mean, you… I think you know it already by now but, uhm, I really like you?” Felix doesn’t have the courage to look at him in the eyes and says nothing. “So, yeah, I just wanted to tell you, I guess. You don’t have to do anything about it, though I wish things would have ended up differently; I kinda… wanted to ask you out—”

“You can.” Felix’s mind is a whirlwind and he isn’t really thinking, doesn’t really know why he said that. He thinks, maybe, that this is his chance, that he can learn how to love and be loved, for once. He doesn’t know any other gay guys at school, so why not? What does he have to lose? He doesn’t hate the guy, but he can’t say that he likes him either, romantically at least. He wonders if, with time, that could change.

“I— _ uh?" _ The Boy probably wasn’t expecting that answer either. Felix finally looks at him in the face and takes a step closer.

“I mean, why not? We could try it out? I think you should kiss me right now.” Now that he looks up at him closely, The Boy is actually pretty cute: slightly taller than him, slender, with a long pretty nose and curly dark hair.

“I—what? Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise?”

“I—right. Sure.” He seems surprised, like suddenly he doesn’t know what to do anymore. He places his hands on Felix’s shoulders, and kisses him. His lips are soft, and Felix finds himself enjoying it, even if the other guy tastes like that stupid pink drink that he’s tried to avoid all night. He thinks maybe it’s a bit stupid, wasting his first kiss like that, to a boy he barely knows. Shouldn’t kisses be given to the ones you really love? Felix doesn’t really understand. But then again, Sylvain kisses random people all the time, so maybe it’s not that important. It’s just a kiss, right? And he’s eighteen and kissing is what teenagers do.

The Boy breaks from the kiss first and stares down at him with a genuine smile, “You’re beautiful” he whispers, making Felix’s guts twinge in guilt. Before the other can say anything else, he grabs him by the collar and kisses him again. Every time The Boy seems like he wants to speak, Felix only kisses him harder, because he isn’t sure he could find the words for anything to say. Until eventually, Felix’s phone buzzes in his pocket and they are forced to break it off.

“I, shit, sorry,” he says, as he reads the last message from Dimitri, “My friend, he has the car, asked me where I am so we can go home and uhm—” he wants to say just  _ bye _ but he figures it wouldn’t be very polite. The Boy must have caught on this, because he grabs Felix’s wrist, almost afraid he would have fled if he hadn’t and asks, “Let’s exchange phone numbers? I’ll write to you later.”

It’s a good compromise and Felix nods.

Later in the car, Sylvain puts an arm around his shoulder and asks loudly, “Where have you been? We wanted to play a match of beer pong with you.” Felix feels that he doesn’t really want to tell him what has happened. “Out, I needed a bit of fresh air.” He’s glad none of his friends press the issue.

Back at home, he falls asleep and starts thinking about the night again, and the kiss. The Boy in his dreams is smiling, less insecure, and Felix imagines kissing him under the rain at night like in one of those stupid romantic movies. Soon though, curly black hair becomes red and wavy and the lanky build changes in a much bulkier one.

The Sylvain in his dreams kisses him with much more fervour than The Boy ever had, kissing and biting Felix’s mouth, and neck, and shoulders. Felix himself feels like he is more experienced, knowing where he likes to be touched and where he likes to touch Sylvain. Sylvain breaks the kiss for a second, looking amazed at him. “You look beautiful,” he whispers, and this time Felix answers, “You do, too.”

Sylvain smiles and brings a finger to his own lips, as to warn Felix to keep it quiet, before dropping to his knees and—

Felix wakes up with a start, sweaty and breathing heavily. He throws himself back on the bed and hides his face in his arms as the memory of the dream fades away.

He feels like  _ shit. _ He shouldn’t have these sorts of dreams about his best friend.

Eventually, he manages to get back to sleep and wakes up late in the morning feeling even more miserable, his phone beeping with a good morning text by The Boy, asking to see each other again over a coffee. Felix bites his tongue, blocks the number, and never answers.

* * *

When he’s twenty-two, he dies again. The dreams, the memories, whatever connection there was to the other world abruptly stop.  _ Ah, the other me must have died then, _ he thinks.

He looks at his own body as if he doesn’t know it, looking for a birthmark that maybe he hasn’t noticed his whole life, or maybe a new scar. He finds nothing, of course. He’s almost a bit disappointed.

_ You know when you wake up early in the morning and you still don’t feel connected to the world? Every sound seems padded but at the same time so loud you can’t make a word out of it, and your head hurts as you’re trying to focus your eyes on a new day. This is what Felix is feeling right now, one thousand times more intense. _

_ He’s in the middle of the battlefield, wounded and scared, and everything around him is just so  _ loud _ it echoes in his ears, and his vision keeps going black, and he feels dizzy, and he just wishes he could fucking  _ concentrate _ , for goddess’ sake… _

_ He lives in his own, little, made-up world, even if everything around him is exploding and burning, and people are screaming and crying, and running away. He’s inside an invisible bubble, just him and the body lying down in front of him living in it. _

_ “Just a bit of thunder magic, nothing that I cannot manage, after all the times I trained with you,” Sylvain croaks. _

_ His armour exploded where the spell hit him, right in the middle of his chest, just below his sternum. His chest is visible, and  _ goddess _ the skin is ripped off, and the flesh is exposed, and there is so much blood… _

_ “Are you an idiot?” Felix is hunching over Sylvain, trying to press on his wound, trying to help somehow. He hates himself for not following the Professor’s advice of learning white magic, at least the basics, because if he can’t help Sylvain it’s only his fault and— _

_ Sylvain’s hand reaches for Felix’s face to dry his tears away but manages only to spread blood all over his cheeks. _

_ “You have a sword piercing your back and you care about me? What, do you like me?” _

_ Felix’s abdomen is stabbed with a long sword from behind; a dark, reddish-black pool of blood drenches his clothes and keeps spreading like an oil spill in the ocean. _

_ Felix wants to scoff but just ends up coughing some blood. _

_ “You’ve been—you are a great friend, Felix.” Sylvain tries to speak when it’s so obviously painful for him. “And an even better lover.” He laughs bitterly, his voice hoarse, covering his eyes with his forearm. “Hey, do you remember our pr—” _

_ “Shut up. Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear you mention it.” _

_ How incredibly selfish he is, Felix thinks, not to let Sylvain speak. _

_ Sylvain swallows a smile. “Okay,” he says, and stays silent. _

_ Wait, wait, no, Felix wants him to keep talking, wants to hear his voice, wants to retort, but suddenly realises he cannot speak anymore. All his body feels heavy, his knees give out. He never wanted this. He wanted to see the end of the war, or maybe he wanted to never see it start, he wants to stay by Sylvain’s side, alive and flourishing, he wants, he wants… _

__

* * *

When he’s twenty-two and a few months older, he meets Ashe.

Felix’s sure they must have met before, but he can’t really tell when or where.

“Felix? Is that really you?!” he says the first time they meet, at Annette  _ 'special studying-energy table’  _ in a corner of the library. “It’s Ashe, remember me? From that summer camp at the lake! The world really is tiny, isn’t it?” he raises from his chair to give Felix an awkward half handshake half hug.

Felix remembers now: back in middle school, when he had spent for the first time the summer holidays without his parents, he had met a scrawny kid whose bed was just next to his, and they had spent the rest of the trip tied to the hip. They even had texted and exchanged postcards for a bit after that, until eventually they had lost contact like all summer friendships do.

Ashe is in his twenties now, taller and grown into his face but still hiding a spark of mischief in his eyes like he used to at age thirteen.

“Hey, you’ve been doing good, it seems.” He smiles brightly and Felix is drawn to smile back at him, too.

“Hey, yeah, I’m good. It’s been a long time.”

Spending time with Ashe is…  _ refreshing, _ like the green of his eyes. Not that Felix doesn’t like his friends – even if they drive him mad most of the time – but Ashe brings with him the feeling of a crisp sunny spring day, and Felix feels enamoured in it.

Apparently, he’s been in the same class as Annette’s for an entire year, but they haven’t really talked until a few months ago, when they discovered their mutual passion for the bakery across the street from uni. Bonding over food, only Annette could be capable of that, Felix thinks as he rolls his eyes.

In the few weeks that follow, Felix and Ashe come closer and closer. At first, it’s just a reminder of old days, and Felix feels a bit weird talking about childhood memories in front of Dimitri, Sylvain, and Ingrid who, for once, don’t share them with him. It feels like, after growing up always together with them and doing everything the same _ , after seeing the same friends in his dreams,  _ Ashe is a thing that’s only  _ his, _ and he clings close to that.

Seeing Ashe bond with his childhood friends, and vice versa, fills him with an electricity that he couldn’t think possible; it’s like sewing two completely different parts of his life, and he’s excited to see that they fit perfectly together. Ashe and Ingrid find out they love the same book series and it’s hard to stop them when they start talking about it. One night, in which they are all invited to Sylvain’s house party, they find them sound asleep on the ground between the couch and the coffee table, papers full of theories and lore scattered around them.

Once, he finds Ashe and Dimitri together in their favourite studying room, books left abandoned and deep into a conversation about the correct care for horses, as Ashe explains that he used to live in a farm and helped his family with all the animals.

He hasn’t had dreams for months now, dreams that make him think about a possible past life, much, much darker than the one he’s living right now. The details are more and more difficult to remember each day but maybe Felix prefers it this way. He thinks of his brother, who is far away to another country for his studies ( _ But at least he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive  _ screams a faint voice in his head) and he can’t wait to get back home to write to him everything that he’s feeling at the moment. He’s never been more content. Nothing could go wrong.

* * *

Sylvain’s love for Felix is like his grandmother’s Sunday soup, left cooking and brewing slowly on the stove for hours, as its smell spreads everywhere in the house. As a kid, Sylvain would say  _ wait, let’s cook it a little longer _ , because he loved the stronger flavour, or maybe just loved the anticipation of it. But in just one instant everything was burnt, and he was left with the grimy bitter taste in his mouth of something he hadn’t even tasted yet. He doesn’t remember falling in love with Felix, no  _ oh _ moment, no realisation from the heavens, no arrow piercing his heart. He just feels he’s always been in love with him his whole life. But he remembers the moment he decided to force himself out of love. He’d given his heart to Felix, stitched it up with a cute bow, and left it in front of his door without a note.

It had taken him a while, to realise his attraction towards boys was romantic and sexual and not just a casual friendship. He had always liked to experiment and try new things, and he found out he liked going out with and kissing boys just as much as he liked kissing girls.

Felix had come out to him and his friends as gay just a couple of months after Sylvain’s first adventures, at age sixteen.

“What, jealous I’ll steal all the cute boys from you?” he had joked and received a punch in answer.

He thinks of telling him, maybe like a joke,  _ hey you know, why don’t we date each other since we are both boyfriendless? _

But Felix eventually gets a boyfriend (“Don’t use that word, nothing is official yet” Felix had spat when Sylvain had found out), and he doesn’t know how to feel. He himself has a girlfriend so he shouldn’t be jealous but – his mind is full of a sort of sadness at the pitch of his stomach that murmurs  _ what ifs  _ and  _ maybes _ …

They break up only two weeks later and Sylvain’s breakup follows soon after. He never says anything about what he feels (what he thinks he feels) to anyone, as he watches Felix become more and more bitter when the matter of a relationship and love comes up.

Sylvain, eventually, gets tired and misses the feeling of being loved, being wanted, and going back to his girlfriend - or boyfriend - chasing is a static coming back to normality.

Felix is so loved – by his friends, by his family – that he doesn’t need Sylvain’s love, too. If he thinks about it, maybe there had been a moment where Felix might have liked him back, but he must have missed it. He knows how easily and quickly relationships can be broken, so he doesn’t dare to speak. Most of his ex-girlfriends barely look at him in the eyes when they accidently meet in the street. Not that he cares too much. Still, it kind of hurts.

In the two years that follow, it’s easy for him to ignore the deepest whispers of his heart, helped by the fact that Felix does everything he can to be unreachable. He continues to date, and Felix continues not to; he has sex like it means nothing leaving behind him a wake of broken hearts.

Until, in the third year of college, he sees a spark of change. Ashe is younger than him, just about Felix’s age and has the sweetest smile Sylvain has ever met. He has a bubbly laugh and loves to ramble for hours about all the little things that he likes… and has an obvious crush on Felix. Ok, maybe not really obvious, but Sylvain prides himself in being good at reading people, so he can’t miss the way Ashe’s eyes shine when Felix joins them to study, or how he smiles at something he said.

Unfortunately, Felix is completely oblivious. Sylvain knows Ashe is just naturally sweet with everyone, but he definitely puts a special treatment for Mr. Fraldarius only. It’s little things like a gasp when he agrees to something he said, it’s the  _ So, what do think, Felix?  _ asked every time he’s faced with a conundrum, it’s the fidget of his hands and his bouncy legs when they sit too close to each other. It’s equally adorable and embarrassing having to witness it.

Honestly, he cannot believe Felix hasn’t realised yet. Probably, given how he doesn’t even seem to hide or care for the blushes that tint his face every time he talks to the shorter guy, Felix hasn’t realised his own feelings yet.

Sylvain must do something about it, right? Felix is his best friend and Sylvain has so much dating experience that he gives himself the role of the matchmaker. And in his own, self-destructing, self-deprecating way, he thinks that this is  _ good _ , that he  _ wants _ to see Felix with another man, to see him fall in love with them, because this is what he deserves to heal his scarred heart. Plus, Ashe seems the perfect guy to make fun of for having a crush. He can imagine him blushing when Sylvain would whisper in his ear that he knows his secret, but that he can help him out. He can imagine his gasp as he’d look over to Felix to check if he’d been listening…cute.

* * *

He hasn’t ever talked to Ashe alone, not really. He’s pretty sure Ashe still sees them as a friend of a friend stage, given how they study different things and don’t have classes together. But lately he has seemed to click really well with both Dimitri and Felix, Sylvain’s closest friends,  _ and  _ he’s been at his house for a party, they just haven’t really had a heart to heart conversation yet.

So maybe that’s why Ashe is a bit surprised when he sees Sylvain alone approaching him in the library.

“Hey Ashe, studying hard?” he asks, pointing at the several academic books opened on the desk in front of him.

“Mh, not really...” he answers, closing a novel that he’s been reading on his lap. He keeps his finger in as a bookmark, as if he doesn’t expect the conversation to last long. “Just taking a break. How are you? Are you here to study too?”

“All good. Actually, I was here to see you.”

Ashe opens his eyes wide and looks at Sylvain a bit confused. He folds the corner of the page and puts his book down. “Sure, what is it?”

Sylvain grabs a chair and sits very close to Ashe, sliding his arm on the desk and holding his chin on his hand.

“So, I’ve been thinking, has anything been on your mind lately?” he lets the last words roll on his tongue as he slides even closer to Ashe.

“Huh… like what?” he seems just confused and so  _ unresponsive _ to Sylvain’s teasing.

“I mean, has  _ anyone _ been on your mind lately?”

“I still don’t… understand,” Ashe says, but Sylvain notices the uncertainty and embarrassment in his voice.

“Really? Because I think a little bird,” he leans in and whispers to Ashe’s ear, “told me our little Ashe has a big crush on a friend of his…”

He gets the reaction he was hoping for: colour immediately rises to Ashe’s cheeks as he takes a worried look around to make sure no one has been listening. “I—I don’t have a  _ crush _ on anyone…” he whispers through gritted teeth.

“Oh really?” Sylvain says in his most theatrical fake voice, “So I can text Felix—” Ashe jumps on his seat at the name and Sylvain just loves it “—and ask him for a night out to hit on some boys…”

“I don’t think he—I mean I…” Ashe looks like he’s trying really hard to find the right words. “Why are you doing this?” he settles in the end. Sylvain feels almost a bit guilty. Ashe is a good guy, and he really likes him, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing this.. Especially after…no, he doesn’t need to think about it now.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sylvain answers, finally leaning away and giving Ashe some personal space, “I am the one with the most dating experience out of all our friends—” Ashe raises an eyebrow at him which Sylvain ignores “—and I thought I’d be helping a little inexperienced birdie in wooing the guy he likes.”

“First of all, I’m…. I’m not  _ inexperienced…”  _ Sylvain whistles and Ashe ignores him, “And I don’t need help in… as you said, wooing or not wooing whoever I want,” he says, pondering and weighting every word. “So thanks,” he concludes, and Sylvain knows the conversation is over.

“Ok, ok, whatever you say,” Sylvain admits defeat and raises his arms in the air, “but I have eyes and I’ve seen the way you look at him. Felix can be… kind of a closed door so, if you change your mind, I’ll be here.” He pats Ashe’s head fondly and leaps out of the room without waiting for an answer.

* * *

Sylvain is a man of many hobbies. He likes to pick up on things and drop them less than a couple of weeks later, out of lack of interest. Like that time he tried to get into pottery, or into embroidery, or cooking. He has tried all different kinds of sports (being the only heir to the prestigious house of Gautier had his advantages sometimes, he guesses. Shame that it ruined his life in every other way).

He’s never been much into reading fantasy stories (not as much as Ingrid anyway), but he lets his mind wander even too much with  _ gossip. _ Dimitri once had asked him how it was possible that he knew so many people around school, and Sylvain simply answered that he was hungry for secrets.

His current hobby, and favourite gossip topic, is watching Ashe desperately and so  _ adorably _ dealing with a crush on the one and only Felix Hugo Fraldarius.

They haven’t got a chance to speak face to face alone yet, since their little chat at the library a few weeks ago, and he’s starting to believe Ashe is avoiding him on purpose.

It’s Annette’s monthly bad movies marathon night and Ashe is invited too, of course. Sylvain likes to sit at the very back of the room, where he has a complete vision of what’s going on. Ingrid dozes off at the beginning of the third movie, an empty cup of tea dangling from her grip. Dimitri yawns politely and answers all of Annette’s quips and questions, even if it’s obvious he’s tired and would rather just be at home.

And Ashe,  _ oh,  _ Ashe stopped paying attention to the film ages ago, ever since Felix came back from the bathroom and sat again in his spot next to Ashe just a bit too close. Their knees and thighs are touching, and Sylvain thinks Ashe is probably going to swallow himself up alive if he continues to bite at his nails nervously as that.

Sylvain stretches and yawns loudly, asking if the others want something to drink from the kitchen.

Felix turns around and  _ ah, the spell is broken _ , and says he’s following Sylvain. As he stands to his feet, Sylvain’s eyes meet Ashe’s and he winks at him. Ashe blushes at having been caught, and Sylvain knows he cannot try to hide it any longer.

It all ends (starts?) perfectly one lazy summer afternoon, just a couple of weeks later. Sylvain strolls in the university corridors aiming for the door at the end of the third floor. Most people usually avoid that room, because the lock is a bit faulty, and during the afternoon the sun hits just right across the window so that the temperature inside rises to the almost unbearable. It’s annoying, but it’s the only place where he’s sure he won’t find any stranger and  _ goddess _ if he needs to be alone and concentrate at the moment. His next exam is just in a few weeks and he hasn’t even started to—

He opens the door, and finds Felix and Ashe sitting close to each other, alone. They seem to be in the middle of a small break from their studies, deep into a conversation and with empty cups of coffee on the desk in front of them. Of course, all his friends know about this room and this is where they usually meet to study all together. Ashe immediately blushes and coughs, leaning back on his chair as if caught in the middle of something private or  _ intimate _ . Sylvain smiles devilishly.

“Uh,” he says, “Sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” He makes to close the door, but the voice of Felix stops him. “What are you doing? You can stay here. We were just about to get back to study.”

“I—Yeah, right.” Ashe says, and Sylvain would dare to say that he’s almost a little disappointed.

“No need, thanks,” Sylvain says with a shrug, “I  _ really _ need to be alone to concentrate at best. I’ll look for another room. Call me when you take your next coffee break, though!”

“I don’t understand why he’s like that. It’s not like we need the room for ourselves,” Felix scoffs once he’s out of the room. “Treating us like we have… I don’t know, rabies or something.”

“Ah, right. Maybe, he really wants to study alone,” Ashe says feebly.

“Whatever. If he wants us, he’ll come back. Come on, let’s get back to work.”

‘Getting back to work’ peacefully lasts only a couple of minutes, as Ashe’s phone vibrates with a notification of a new text. He excuses himself and opens a message from Sylvain that contains only an eggplant emoji and a question mark.

“I’m sorry,” he kind of shouts, standing up from his chair abruptly, “I have to go –  _ commit a murder –  _ to the bathroom for a second.” Felix looks at him confused. “Ok… Sure.”

Ashe leaps out of the room to find Sylvain leaning against the wall behind the door.

“WHAT… are you doing,” Ashe asks, shouting and then immediately lowering his voice. He’s still in school after all, and he really doesn’t want Felix to hear what they are saying.

“What am I doing?” Sylvain repeats with an innocent smile.

“You—listen Sylvain, I really like you and you are a friend,” Sylvain’s heart does a funny skip in his chest, because rarely people have been so direct with him with  _ positive _ comments, “but, this is really, really awkward.”

Ok, maybe he crossed the line. He’s used to tease his friends like that, but maybe he shouldn’t have taken that step of confidence with Ashe yet.

“Hey buddy, I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but… It’s been two months already and it’s almost painful seeing you like this. You said you didn’t need my help but clearly you haven’t made much progress.”

“Two months is not  _ that  _ much—” Ashe pouts, crossing his arms.

“Hey, do you know how many girls I can get in two months—”

“I don’t, and I really don’t care. Sorry, Sylvain.”

(The answer it’s zero, by the way. It’s been a while since he put behind his back his high school behaviour of skirt-chaser, but his friends still joke about it, so Sylvain must joke about it, too.)

“—plus, I’m not you, but...”

_ Oh?  _ “But…?” Sylvain encourages him with a smile.

“I have to admit, I wish things were... making progress.” Ashe is blushing deeply at the admission, hugging his own waist, and looking at the ground.

“Oh!  _ Oh,  _ our little Ashe admits his sexual frustration!”

It’s amazing how quickly Ashe’s expression can change: he sends a murderous look at Sylvain, the warmth of his eyes suddenly transformed in a deep cold green that freezes Sylvain on the spot.

“Please do not use that word ever again.”

But then he lets out a big sigh. “I just... don’t really know what to do to make him understand that I might be... that I  _ am _ interested in something more than a friendship,” he says, scratching his cheek. “Sometimes he acts like… I don’t know, like he doesn’t care for romance at all… which is fine! I’ll accept that! But when it’s just the two of us he’s so sweet to me and we can talk about anything and he’s a great listener and I can only think of...” he coughs and shuts up. Sylvain will not let him have that so easily.

“Of…?” he pushes him.

“I’d like to leave that sentence purposely ambiguous.”

Sylvain laughs. Ashe is right, under that thick skin, Felix is actually a caring, loving friend. He really can’t blame Ashe for falling for him.

“Have you actually asked him out?”

“Well, I’ve asked him if he wanted to spend the afternoon studying together, and he always said yes, but…”

“Studying together? Ashe,  _ darling _ , I really need to teach you the basics.” He laughs at Ashe’s pouty face.

“It’s Felix we’re talking about, you have to be more  _ direct.”  _ He says the last words as he comes closer, taking Ashe’s chin between his fingers. “Try something like,  _ I like you, do want to go out with me?” _

Ashe swallows and takes a step back, embarrassed. “And—does this always work for you?”

“Work? Hey, of course it does. Now, if it leads to a relationship that lasts though…”

“Sylvain…!”

“Kidding, kidding. I know that’s not your type of thing.”

There is a moment of silence, in which Ashe seems like he wants to start speaking but then decides not to. He finally gives in in the end. “Do you really think… I should just ask it like that?”

“You know, in all the years I’ve known Felix, I’ve never seen him date anyone for real, so maybe… you should try your own  _ slower _ approach.

“My offer still stands though! If you ever just need someone to talk to, or to scream your repression at how hot Felix is—” Ashe raises an eyebrow “—I’m here for you. Operation Wooing in Ashe’s style with a pinch of Gautier flavour. What do you think?”

“ _ Gautier flavour _ ? What the hell, Sylvain…” Ashe makes a face that soon turns into a smile. Sylvain smiles back at him.

“But I guess, yeah… Okay.”

“What…?”

“I said okay.”

“R—really?”

“Goddess, Sylvain, yes. Don’t make me change my mind. I guess it would be nice to have someone to talk to… about everything. And—and you can talk to me about your girl uhm—or boy crushes!” he offers, slightly bumping Sylvain's shoulder with his fist. Oh, he doesn’t even know half of it.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

“So, deal?” Ashe raises a fist expectantly.

“Ok let’s make a deal. Should I spit on my hand?”

“What?! NO!” Ashe exclaims, pulling back his hand in disgust.

Sylvain makes sure to ruffle Ashe’s hair before he lets him go back into the classroom. He can't wait for tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this far. this was supposed to be just an introduction chapter, but it got a but out of hand. still, i'm very excited for what's to come in the future. the concept of memories/reincarnation will be expanded further in the next chapters!  
>   
> you can find me [here](https://twitter.com/kyuurashiki) on twitter ✧・ﾟ:*


End file.
